


By Your Side

by 1JettaPug



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1980s, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, No Smut, Rock Stars, Sick Character, Sickfic, Slash, Sleepy Cuddles, Vomiting, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: Vinnie is sick on tour, but Paul and Gene think he's faking or trying to steal their attention away from more important matters. Eric's the only one to notice that something's off, and he ends up taking care of the lead guitarist.





	By Your Side

Traveling from locations and climates that varied, such as going from England to Spain or Italy to Finland, took its toll on the entire crew of a rock ‘n roll crew. Naturally, members of the stage crew always fell victim to a case of the sniffles or ran a fever for a day or two. It was expected for new crew members joining the craziness of touring around. It was understandable for those used to touring but weak to their allergies or sudden changes in temperatures. The tour could go on and survive if ‘Steve’ threw up his lunch and had to go lay down for a little while. ‘Bob’ could pick up the slack and do his duties for him while he downed a few pills, drank some water and napped it off.

KISS’s road-crew were no exception when it came to this. They were some of the best crew members around, but even they couldn’t remain unfazed by their recent dip into England’s rainy weather and their now present day blazing hot German weather. Being in the city scape did little to help, too, since all the buildings kept the heat packed in and the concrete just absorbed all the sun’s rays. So, of course, a small handful of the crew got headaches, some threw up, and some just drank a lot of water and bitched about their aching everything. It was fine. They would be over it by tomorrow or the next day. The crew had two days off before they had to set up their stage in the city, anyway, so it would all work out.

Yes, they’d survive. They’d go on, and the show could certainly go on without one or two of them under the weather. It was truly only ever the end of the world if anything got to the band members. If Paul, Gene, Vinnie or Eric were not able to go on… Well, there went a whole heap of money right out of the tour. Everyone knew it. 

Everyone knew it, and that was why Vinnie hadn’t said a word after feeling off for a few days. A few days of nothing but relentless concerts and no rest. At first, he just had a headache and the occasional body ache, but right as they got these next two days off, he was hit with the worst of it. He might have considered them all lucky for that if he didn’t feel like he’d been run over multiple times by a truck today.

Miserably, he dealt with his rapid change in body temperatures, stuck either throwing off his coat or wrapping himself up in several blankets on the tour bus. The next thing he knew he was desperately tearing them all off himself before he roasted to death. All the traveling also did nothing to quell the nausea rocking and rolling through him. The entire flight to Germany had been one of the worst experience flying he’d ever had. He took over the male bathroom, dry heaving, trying to expel something- anything from his stomach! He just wanted it all out of his system! Sure, he always hated puking-- it was gross and made him feel even worse once he was done—but it got whatever was messing with him out of his guts.

Currently, he had been trying his best not to shake and sip at some water while he stared down at his lunch. Today, they had had their lunch set up for them in one of the conference rooms of their hotel, much to Paul’s displeasure. Vinnie couldn’t give a fuck about it right now, couldn’t be bothered to try to pay attention to Paul’s passive aggressive comments about their situation and touring. He was too busy trying to figure out how to fix himself up for the next show in two days. He needed a couple of pills for nausea and headaches, and he’d be as good as new.

The four of them were now all gathered around a table, discussing what the next setlist for the next show was going to be, what they would be doing on their days off, but Vinnie wasn’t paying attention to a bit of it. He just sort of slumped over in his chair, arms wrapped around his stomach in a vain attempt to prevent himself from throwing up all over the floor and tuned out the spinning world around him.

Eventually, he noticed that the room had grown quiet. Vinnie weakly looked up to see all of his bandmates staring at him. “ _What…?_ ” he croaked out, baffled as to why everyone was looking at him expectantly.

“Eric’s been calling your name for a solid minute, man,” Gene said, cocking his head and raising a brow at him with what Vinnie could only assume was his worried look.

The lead guitarist groaned, unable to find his voice through the thick waves of nausea.

“Vinnie, did you even pay attention when we were going down the setlist?” Paul asked with more than a small hint of impatience. Vinnie scowled at him.

“N- No, no, Paulie. I was p- paying attention. Fu- Fuckin’ riveting information as always. As for me… well, everything’s going just going—ug _ghhh… ungh…!_ ” Vinnie’s eyes widened as his stomach rolled suddenly, and he tried in vain to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from puking. It took him a few seconds, but he calmed himself down, then removed his hand to speak, but Paul interrupted before he could make a noise.

“Are you drunk or hungover? Go sleep it off!” The lead singer waved him off. Vinnie leaned back in his chair, pain spreading across his face. God… God, was no one seeing this? Was he honestly the only one aware of his own damn misery?

“ _Vinnie…?_ Vinnie, you look pale,” Eric murmured, inching closer to him.

Vinnie made a soft sound as his partner rested a hand on his thigh, relaxing for a split second before his stomach rolled again, and he closed his eyes tight and fisted his hand over his mouth again. The room was starting to spin faster and faster around him, and he was having trouble keeping everything in focus and the spinning was making his stomach even angrier at him.

“Vinnie? Guys, something’s wrong with him…” Eric said. Vinnie couldn’t blame his little Fox for now just noticing; he’d done his best to keep some distance between them for the last few days just in case this was something contagious. Now, though, it seemed as if he couldn’t hide it from him any longer.

“Ignore him, Eric,” Paul sighed, “He’s just trying to distract you fro--"

“Leave him alone, Paul! Jesus…” Eric raised his voice slightly at him. It was enough to get Paul’s feathers to ruffle and get him to be quiet. Even Gene fell back in his chair with a contemplative look on his face, just watching how this played out for now.

Eric frowned, noticing the heavy buildup of sweat on his partner’s brow, the way his body kept shaking. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Gently, Eric placed a hand against his forehead. Vinnie closed his eyes and leaned into it with a soft sigh. His Fox’s hand felt so cool against his burning face.

“You’re burning up…”

“Just take him back to his room before he throws up on us--” Paul tried to say dismissively, but Eric cut him off.

With shaky vision, Vinnie watched as the drummer got a rare look on his face. He’d only ever gotten that look when he was really done- completely done with a situation or someone. Eric whipped around and shouted, “ _Fuck off, Paul!_ Something’s clearly wrong with him.”

“There’s always something wrong with him,” Paul said with an air of annoyance.

“ _Paul,_ ” Gene huffed, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Shut up and stop it. Something’s clearly wrong with him.”

“But Gene--”

“Stop. Just let Eric fix him up. We’ll have less yelling that way.” Gene sighed, shaking his head and bringing his coke to his lips. Paul huffed and turned away from his bandmates, tired of feeling as if he were the one being ganged up on.

“Er… Eric, baby….” Vinnie whined sharply, trying to ignore the way the world was spinning about. His balance shut off, and it threatening to thrown him off his chair, so he grabbed hold of Eric’s camouflage shirt to steady himself.

Eric caught Vinnie in his arms as he started sliding off his seat, “Easy… Easy there. I got you, baby. Let’s get you upstairs, okay Vinnie? Can you walk?”

Mutely, Vinnie shook his head, trying to keep his dry heaving back for now. God, his stomach was going to murder him.

“I think he’s gonna be sick…” Eric sighed, glancing back to Gene and Paul. “Alright, just hold on okay? No puking until I get you to a bathroom.” Eric put a strong arm under his knees and another under his arms and carefully lifted the lithe guitarist clear off his chair and up into his arms in a bridal carry. The sudden change in altitude made his stomach flip, and he groaned. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just hold on,”

Squirming about in Eric’s arms, Vinnie tried his best not to throw up on him. He just squeezed his eyes shut as Eric raced him upstairs to their shared hotel room and into the bathroom to deposited him in front of the toilet. It was just in time too, because Vinnie’s stomach chose that moment to violently get rid of everything he’d eaten or drank in the past day.

Eric tried not to gag at the smell. All he could do was lay a hand on his back and rub small circles in a comforting gesture as Vinnie heaved over and over again. When his stomach finally let him go, the guitarist collapsed, exhausted, onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on briefly. Vinnie felt a cool cloth wipe across his face cleaning away the sweat from his forehead and the sick from his mouth. 

“You feelin’ better, baby? Did you get it all out?” Eric asked him.

Vinnie hiccupped and nodded, slightly. “I… I, ahh, think so…”

“Okay, baby. C’mon, we gotta get you off the dirty floor,” Eric said, softly, “’m gonna get some water in you…”

“Water… yeah, water...” Vinnie echoed him, nodding off into Eric’s arms as he hauled him slowly up and held him steady while he got his bearings back.

Tiredly, Vinnie swallowed several times, tamping down his nausea and dizziness as Eric pulled him along to their bedroom. “C’mon…. C’mon, I’m going to get you in the bed…”

Vinnie nodded, thanking god that Eric was letting him bear most, if not all, of his weight against him. Carefully, Eric helped Vinnie get out of his sweat covered clothes and into some sleep clothes. Vinnie then collapsed onto the bed and promptly curled up with a pillow pressed tightly to his chest.

Once his partner was comfortably snuggled up in bed, Eric sat down on the bed and ran his hand down his side. Vinnie was almost asleep when his sweet Fox’s voice brought him back into consciousness, “You feeling any better, muffin?”

“’M tired… ‘m tired, and I feel like ‘m dying….” Vinnie murmured, softly, as his eyes closed once more, “Don’t go, Eric…! _Don’t go! Don't leave me!_ I don’t wanna be alone right now…”

“Aw, don’t freak out, baby. I’m not leaving your side,” Eric smiled down at him, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and tucking him in snugly. “I’m just gonna lean over to the mini-fridge and get a bottle of water out for you.” he told him, reluctantly shifting over, but keeping a hand on his partner, and opening the door to get him a cool bottle out. “We can’t have you getting dehydrated and killin’ over before the next concert… Gene would absolutely murder us both, then.” Eric chuckled, lightly, getting a weak smile to pull at the corner of Vinnie’s lips.

He helped Vinnie lean up a bit and let him take a few hesitant sips from the bottle before putting it on the bedside table. When he was done, Eric didn’t hesitate in climbing into the bed with him, pulling his partner to his chest and stroking his long, wiry hair. “Do you feel any better after that? Your poor little tummy still sounds so upset…”

The guitarist groaned, not answering him, leaning into Eric’s warm touch and rubbed his cheek against his smooth chest. 

“Awww, okay. You just rest now, muffin. Just focus on nothing, drift off… I’ll be right here.” Vinnie heard Eric tell him as he felt himself falling asleep. He was warm and comfortable for the first time in days. His nausea had settled down some, and he couldn’t see the room spinning as he shut his eyes. Exhaustion pulled at his tired mind, and he drifted off knowing that his Eric was watching over him.

Slowly as he watched him fall asleep, Eric’s free hand moved and slipped down to Vinnie’s midsection, and when he didn’t make any move or whine of protest, Eric began to rub gentle circles into his partner’s taut flesh. He seemed to relax right into his hold, so Eric thought the worst of it had past. So, figuring that Vinnie would be fine for the night, Eric cuddled into him and soon fell asleep shortly afterwards.

Unfortunately, Eric was a bit wrong in his assumptions, since only about four hours later, he was woken up to the sound of a retch. He jolted awake when his hazy mind registered the unsettling sounds of hard coughing coming from his partner, and he sat up to see Vinnie sitting up, teary eyed, with a hand clasped to his mouth, the other arm wrapped protectively around his middle, which sounded even more angry than it did before. There was vomit all down his front, on his lap, and all over the blankets-- just everywhere!

"Vinnie--" Eric sleepily called out to him, the sound of his voice making his partner flinch and curl in on himself. He wrapped both of his arms tightly around his stomach, knees drawn closely to his chest, heartbreaking whimpers and groans emitting themselves from his lips as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

" _Er- Eric, I t- threw up…!_ " he choked out, his voice thick and slurred with sickness.

The drummer gave a short nod to the vomit-splattered bedsheets, trying to hide his disgust for now. The pillowcases seemingly took the most damaged, but the duvet was a close second, followed by the guitarist himself, hands completely covered in the disgusting substance from where he had panickedly tried to stop it from happening, chest and lap unfortunately matching in mess.

"Ohh, oh man, Vinnie…" Eric sighed softly as he grabbed the covers and threw them over the mess. He moved a gentle hand until it fell against the guitarist’s back, rubbing up and down Vinnie's back.

"I… I- I feel so bad… Eric, I- I’m gonna puke again…" he stammered out, gasping in between each word as he fights back the urge to gag again, eyes squeezing shut when an unbelievably painful stomach cramp ripped through his insides, making him feel like he was going to throw up all over again. Eric cooed out to him, feeling absolutely horrible that he didn’t wake up sooner. He could have helped him to the bathroom, or at least helped him lean over the bed.

"I'm sorry, muffin…" Eric murmured. "It’s just the weather or something getting to you… It got to me when we first got to England, but I took some pills for it right away. We’ll just have to get you through tonight and get you some meds in the morning…"

“’M not gonna make it until morning….” Vinnie cried, weakly. He flopped down into Eric’s arm and choked on a pathetic sob. Eric cuddled into him and shushed him, gently.

“Ssshhh, shh, it’ll be alright. It’ll be okay, Vin. C’mon… Here, let’s get you to the toilet again before you can get sick on the bed again. C’mon, I’ll help you.”

Being really careful with him, Eric lifted him up off the bed and gathered him up into his arms. Carrying him back to the bathroom, Eric laid him down on the floor.

“Just lean over and let it out, baby. Just let it all out,” Eric crooned, continuing his soft reassurances as Vinnie leapt forward and threw up again, and again, and again, and… Eric sighed. “Get it all up. I know you’ll feel better when it’s over…” God, it was so concerning how much his partner was throwing up with each heave. “Aww, Vinnie…”

It took him a little while, maybe an hour or so, but Vinnie’s stomach did calm down once more, and his heaving died down to a series of hollow belches. The lead guitarist leaned his head up and off the toilet seat and back against Eric’s shoulder as he panted heavily, trying to regain his breath. Eric hummed lowly, stroking his partner’s hair as he tried to decide what they should do next. For the second time that night, Vinnie needed some kind of cleaning up- at least a clothing change- and the sheets were soaked with sweat, blankets and pillows were covered in vomit. Clearly, Vinnie was exhausted, and he probably wouldn’t manage a shower or bath right now…

“Eric… Errrr _rrric, baby… I- I need you…_ ” Vinnie slurred, pulling the drummer from his thoughts.

“Don’t worry, muffin,” Eric reassured him. “Hey, hey… You’re sick, you can’t help it.” He stroked his face, smiling when Vinnie instantly leaned into his touch. “But I need you to wait right here for a second… I’m gonna clean up in there, then come back to clean you up.”

“Errric, noooo… Stay. _Stay! Stay with me--_ ”

“Baby, I need you to stay here in case you get sick again.” Eric leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Trust me, Imma be right back, but I gotta fix our bed back for us.” Vinnie groaned, but he eventually nodded, understanding that someone really did need to clean up the mess in their room. He hoped Eric was just going to throw the sheets out in the hall for the hotel staff to worry about, then come straight back to him and cuddle him.

Eric felt bad, though. He honestly felt real bad about having to move his partner right now while he was still clearly exhausted and sickly. Still, as gently as he could, Eric nudged Vinnie out of his arms so he could lean all his weight back against the toilet, but it took Vinnie a few moments to comply with him, clinging like a needy child to the cloth of Eric’s shirt with a slow whine.

Hurrying back into the bedroom, Eric went over to the bed and groaned at the disgusting mess splattered all across the sheets. “Ohh, Vinnie… …When the hell did you eat some of Gene’s cookies, man?” he sighed but continued his mission to clean up.

Carefully peeling back the covers in order to throw out the mess and the smell, Eric gathered the sheets and pillows up and set them outside in the hall. He felt a little bad about just leaving the mess out there for the hotel staff to clean up, but he couldn’t focus too much on that. He had to focus on more important things right now.

“At least we’ve got two beds in here…” Eric murmured to himself, pulling out fresh clothes from Vinnie’s duffle bag. “Vinnie! Hey, Vinnie, I’m back.” he announced after stepping back into the bathroom. The lead guitarist groaned, curling further in on himself. Eric set down the clothes and wet a towel to wipe him back down with. “Okay, baby, Imma wipe you down now. You got that?”

Vinnie gave a weak nod. When the towel was wrung out some and ready for him, Eric kneeled down beside him and peeled off his soiled shirt and sweatpants. He just tossed them into the corner and turned his full attention back to his partner shivering on the cold tile.

“H- How am I gonna _play…?_ ” Vinnie moaned as Eric dabbed the cloth down his chest and arms. “‘M too weak to hold up my own damn arms… _I- I can’t hold my guitar--_ I- Imma puke on the crowd… Paul’s gonna l- laugh at me and make ‘em put a spotlight o- on that shit--”

“Oh, Vin, c’mon,” Eric shushed him. “Don’t think about that right now. You’re gonna be fine, baby. We’re gonna have you fixed up and ready for the concert in no time at all. Let’s just be grateful we’ve got the next few days off, though.” he chuckled a bit, finishing cleaning him off. After tossing the towel into the corner, Eric helped Vinnie into his fresh sweats and peeled him off of the floor.

“Is your tummy feelin’ any better?” Eric asked him, softly. He pat his belly lightly, but he freaked when Vinnie broke down and sobbed in his arms in response, gagging and choking on air soon after. Eric tried not to panic, kissing the side of his head and giving him a sweet coo. Vinnie shook his head back and forth, quickly, and Eric just ended up bending him back over the toilet, holding back his wiry hair. A heavy belch escaped past his lips and more vomit ended up pouring into the toilet. Eric winced.

“Jesus… There’s gotta be nothing left in you, baby.” he whispered as Vinnie choked out another round of drool and watery stomach acid. The lead guitarist also choked on his sobs, as well, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to breathe through the disgustingly large bouts of vomit that never seemed to end. 

When he finally thought he had the chance to catch his breath, he caught a breath in his throat and gagged, leaning over the bowl to cough out a lung or two. Eric patted his back and grabbed a few tissues from the box resting on the sink counter, leaning Vinnie’s head to the side to wipe at the vomit and drool covering his lips every once in a while.

“There we go… There we are,” Eric mumbled, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek before his partner went through another rough round. “Just get it up. Get it all up, muffin.”

“E- Eric…! Er- Eric… Please! _Please, make it stop…!_ ” Vinnie begged him, dragging a sympathetic groan out from the drummer.

“Oh, baby, I would,” he said, kissing his flushed cheek. “I would if I could, trust me.” He pressed one more kiss against his heated skin, then shut his eyes, focusing on Vinnie’s ragged breathing and audible swallows. He winced as he heard his stomach gurgle dangerously, and Vinnie turned away from him to belch up another wave of watery acid.

It would be another thirty minutes before Vinnie finally stopped throwing up, stopped dry heaving, and stopped choking on his own breath.

“E- Eric… I wanna go back to bed, baby…” he croaked out as he leaned back in Eric’s arms. The drummer frowned, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to try to stop his partner from shaking like mad.

“Vin, I know… I know, but…” Eric trailed off.

“I wanna sleep… I want this to be over already.”

“I know,” Eric sighed, giving in a bit. “Alright. Alright, you ready to leave the bathroom?” Vinnie nodded, weakly. “Here’s hoping you don’t get sick again… or else we’re going to have to bunk with Paul and Gene in their room.”

“Hah.... Like Paulie would want us there while he took it up the ass from Genie…”

“Vinnie… Let’s be real, Paul’s giving him a blow job.” Eric snickered, lightly. He smiled at the little smile on Vinnie’s face before dragging him out into their room again.

Gently, Eric laid Vinnie back down on the bed, the lead guitarist moaning and rolling onto his back as he was sat down. Instantly, he buried his face in the soft pillows, but he abandoned them in favor of burying his face in the crook of Eric’s neck as he laid down right next him.

When Eric sat up momentarily to grab the bottle of water from the bedside table, Vinnie cried until he settled back down. “Hey, hey, baby,” Eric nuzzled into him. He nudged him until Vinnie had moved his head up a bit, and he pressed the bottle to his lips. Taking tiny sips, Vinnie swallowed the rest of the bottle down easily. Thankfully, they were spared any more choking or gagging.

Eric took the empty bottle from him when he finished, tossing it over into the room somewhere. Turning back to his partner, he rubbed Vinnie’s back soothingly, helping to calm him down some more.

Soon, he moved and pulled up the covers to tuck them in with, and Vinnie groaned when he felt the sheets slide up and move his sweats back on his body. Eric shushed him with another kiss to the cheek and moved his clothes back down. Vinnie was lying flat on his back with his arms resting over his tummy with Eric on his side, facing him. After yanking down his sweatshirt, Eric slid a hand under and placed his a gentle rub on his belly, carefully continuing to rub in soothing circular motions.

“How’s your stomach, muffin? Need me to go get you anything for it? We can try meds right now if you want--” Eric tried to ask him but stopped at the weak shake of his head.

“Noooo… I- I don’t wanna throw up again… Don’t got nothin’ on the stomach…”

“You feel better, though?”

“‘M stomach hurts some, yeah… but I- I don’t feel too bad right now…” Vinnie told him, shutting his eyes. “Eric… I want _cuddles…! I want my cuddles!_ ”

Eric smiled, and he helped him shift until the two of them were facing one another. Vinnie sighed in bliss as soon as Eric was pressing up against him and kneading his hands into his back, gently. Soon, Eric had his arms wrapped around Vinnie completely, holding and hugging him with their chest pressed together, faces just a few inches apart. Eric was the one who had his legs entangled with his, since Vinnie was too weak to try to coordinate their movement right for it tonight. But he was happy with it. Hell, he loved it. He absolutely loved falling asleep while hugging and cuddling with his precious Fox. 

Vinnie was peacefully asleep within a few seconds, and Eric moved in closer so that he could kiss him goodnight before starting to drift off to sleep, himself. He hoped Vinnie felt a lot better in the morning-- he seemed to be doing much better right then compared to earlier! He was just a bit nauseous now, but they could fix that in the morning.

Eric’s eyes began to droop closed not too long after that. He cuddled closer against him, feeling a bit protective tonight and wanting to make his partner feel as if he were totally safe, feel as if he was going to one hundred percent come morning. He hoped he did.

For now, though, the night was here, and it dictated they focus only on being comfortable and warm, bundled up in a pile of soft blankets and tangled limbs.

They had the morning, and they had the next two days. They had time to fix him up. They had time to get him back to full working order. They’d be fine, they’d be good. It would all work out.


End file.
